I cupped his cheek in my hand, "I am in love with you," I whispered. "I don't care about your blood or who your father was. I just care about you."
He gently picked me up and carried me back to the fire, setting me on the blanket.
"Tomorrow I'm taking you to the village," he said, holding his hand up when I started to object. "We'll stay there until your shoulder is healed."
He sat next to me, pulling me into his arms. "Then we'll figure out what we'll do. It's not going to be easy, if you decide to stay with me. If we wed, you'll be facing the same kind of prejudice that I do."
I snuggled deeper into his strong arms, breathing in his unique scent. "I know about prejudice," I murmured then I slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next day before dawn we set out to the renegade village that Aaron had grown up, being careful not to take the roads. "We don't need to meet any Woverins," Aaron had said before we left the clearing. We traveled slowly through the woods, slowly because every step I took jarred my wound painfully, but I was determined not to complain. I knew Aaron wanted to get me to safety. When we camped that night Aaron told me it was only another day to the village.
"If you think you can make it in a day," he said as he checked my wound. "I know you've been in tremendous amount of pain."
I looked at him with a mutinous expression, "I can make it in a day," I insisted. Aaron pushed my hair out of my face, "Don't push yourself so hard," he lightly scolded, "and let me take care of you."
He stood up, "I'm going to catch us some dinner," he said. Then disappeared in the woods.

I dozed off for awhile, when I finally woke up, it was dark and the fire was smoldering. I sat up and looked around, Aaron wasn't anywhere in sight. Slowly and painfully I stood up and hobbled to the spot where he had disappeared. I was afraid to call his name, afraid that I might alert someone to our hiding place. But a sixth sense told me that Aaron was in trouble. I retrived my knife and plunged into the woods. Slowly I picked my way down the faint trail that Aaron had made. Up ahead, through an opening in the trees I saw a the light from a campfire. I hunched behind some bushes and peered out into a clearing. Six Woverins, sat around the fire, I inhaled sharply when I saw Aaron tied to a tree at the other side of the clearing. I tensed as one of the Woverins dropped the hunk of meat he was eating and sniffed the air. He pointed toward my hiding place and howled. I muttered "shit," as the Woverins moved in quickly. Then grasping my knife, I burst out of the bushes, taking the first Woverin down with no problem. The second one moved as I slashed at him and I caught him in the shoulder. I screamed in fury as one of the other Woverins caught me from behind, causing me to drop the knife and send waves of pain from my wound.
They dragged me toward the fire, where one said in a rough voice, "something to play with."
He brought out a large, wicked knife and waved it in my face. "Let's see how much we can make you bleed, before you scream." He grabbed my hand, pulling it up so he could cut it with the knife, when he was suddenly lifted up in the air. He landed screaming in the fire, the flames ignited him immediately and he burned like timber. One of the Woverins ran at Aaron howling in anger. Aaron slashed him through the heart, kicking the body out of his path. The Woverin who held me, threw me at Aaron. He turned and ran, followed by the remaining two.
Aaron gently cradled me in his arms, "how did you get free?" I asked him as he checked my shoulder wound.
"I don't know," he said, "I felt this terrible rage when I saw that bastard threaten you with the knife. Then I just snapped the ropes like they were nothing." He grabbed my hand and we quickly walked to our campsite. "We need to leave and move quickly," He said, "the Woverins could decide to return."

We walked for hours, making our own path in the forest. Suddenly Aaron stopped, "there's Woverins ahead," he murmured, "I can smell them."
I tensed up and grasped my knife, "is it the ones from earlier?" I asked.
He shook his head, "these are younger, maybe teenagers," he said.
"Can we go around them?" I asked, not eager for another confrontation with the Woverins.
He shook his head again, "they already know we're here."